


When Fruit Comes To Bear So Sweet

by Interrobang



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Give Beau The Resolution And Comfort She Needs Squad, Missing Scene, Multi, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, let's go lesbians let's go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:28:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25100116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Interrobang/pseuds/Interrobang
Summary: Set in Kamordah after the Nein meet Beau's family. Beau doesn't deal with it quite as well as she'd have the rest of the group believe, but Jester and Yasha are there for her.Rating is for the second chapter, which is very NSFW.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett/Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Yasha
Comments: 17
Kudos: 221





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CanKarmaWrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanKarmaWrite/gifts).



> This commission was a JOY TO WORK ON. Exactly what I wanted to see for Beau. It was a pleasure to get all my own headcanons about Kamordah and Beau out in the open!!!

Kamordah was as shitty as ever. The grassless hills leading into the town from the Lionett estate were muddy and humid with a faint whiff of sulfur on the rare breeze. It was cooler now that they were on the edges of winter, but that just meant that the mud caked on their boots was half-frozen by the time the Nein clomped into the poor excuse for an inn Beau had spent the better part of her formative years terrorizing.

Seeing her parents again— and meeting TJ for the first time— weighed on Beau heavily. She was subdued through most of dinner. She laughed when prompted, and pointed out the odd locations of old secret carvings, but it was half-hearted. Even Caleb seemed to take note, sending Frumpkin to puff up his feathers and snuggle into the crook of Beau’s elbow while she was seated at the table drinking the nail polish remover that passed for spirits at the Gemmed Hearth.

The rooms were shitty, too. The dank room she, Jester, and Yasha claimed would have taken the title windowless as well if not for the missing board in the ceiling above them, through which thatch floated down in a shaft of foggy moonlight.

They stared around the little space with trepidation, discussing amongst themselves who was most likely to survive the ratty beds. 

“Why don’t we just push the beds together and sleep in a pile?” Jester asked eventually. “Caduceus already asked all the bugs to leave, so it can’t be  _ that  _ bad. Beau can take one corner, Yasha can sleep diagonally, and I’ll curl up in the other corner. Then no one has to sleep on the floor.”

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother…” Yasha started, but before she could beg off, Beau interrupted.

“Could probably do with some extra blankets. Make a— a nest or something, just snuggle up?”

“That would work,” Yasha ceded. 

And so they got to work.

When they were done with the chamber, it was half-way to cozy. Jester even cast Gust to whisk away the worst of the smell, and they all fluffed up the collection of soft things they had in their repertoire to make the bed a little cushier. 

Settling in was a little harder. Though Yasha was fairly comfortable laying across the weirdly comfortable super-bed, Beau and Jester had to bend awkwardly to lay next to her. Beau was still tense when they finally snuffed the candle. 

“Beau?” Jester asked softly as she shifted in her spot.

“Yeah?” Beau stared at the ceiling, watching the sharp moonlight through the hole in the thatch. 

“It’ll be okay, you know. Eventually. I mean, I think it will.”

“It has to be,” Yasha added. “Someday.”

Beau gave no answer.

Yasha slept perhaps a little better than she would have on the road, only needing to roll over once after Jester moved in to snuggle and almost stabbed her in the stomach with her horns. The next time Yasha woke, she knew something was different. She listened: the wind, carrying the distant call of an owl hunting for its dinner; Jester, breathing deep and slow on one side.

And no matching breath from Beau. Abruptly Yasha snapped her eyes open, peering at her other side. The bed was empty, the covers pulled up tight over Yasha’s own chest. She was even tucked in. It was like Beau had never been there.

Quickly Yasha extricated herself from her swaddling, shaking Jester’s shoulder until she sat up, groggy and blinking at Yasha in pale moonlight. 

“Huh?” Jester asked, rubbing at one eye. “Wa’s going on?”

“Beau’s gone.”

“She probably had to pee,” Jester said, sinking down into the bed again. “She drank a lot.”

“Her bag’s gone,” Yasha pointed out.

“Oh, Beau,” Jester sighed. But she slid off the bed and started sleepily putting on her boots and coat over her nightgown. She looked over at Yasha, who was still in bed. “We’re going to find her, right?”

“Of course,” Yasha said, moving to get dressed. “She can’t have gone far.”

The only light in the common room was the glowing embers of the dying fire. All had long since vacated for the evening. They walked as quietly as they could out the door, shutting it behind them as they stepped out into the night.

Kamordah seemed like the kind of place that never truly froze over. The ground was soft and muddy, a clay-like slurry under their boots. When they looked at the road, there were a dozen sets of faded, half-dried-out boot- and hoofprints.

And a single set of fresh tracks. 

“That has to be her, right?” Yasha asked.

“That’s back towards her family’s house, though,” Jester said. “Oh no… She seemed really sad before, but what if she was angry, oh— “

“She didn’t seem  _ vengeful  _ or anything,” Yasha assured the tiefling. “Just...disappointed. Maybe she went back to talk to her mother.”

“Let’s just  _ go,  _ c’mon,” Jester said, grabbing Yasha’s hand and tugging her down the trail. 

The boot tracks did indeed continue all the way back to the Lionett estate, but they did not go to the gate. Instead they continued  _ around  _ the estate, until they were well behind the three-story house and its grounds. Here the wild land established its hold on the fields in the form of a thicket of gnarly bent trees and brambles. The mud here was wetter, thicker, and the air slightly warmer. 

As Jester and Yasha continued on Beau’s trail, they came up to a small wooden bridge crossing what looked like some kind of thermal swamp. The mud on either side of the wooden walkway gave way to pools of clear water that steamed in the night. Little burbling streams ran between the pools. Even the mud in some of the dirtier pools bubbled, like some fire beneath was stoking it to boiling.

Jester and Yasha saw a number of night-blooming flowers clustered around the edges of the pools in the wan light of the moon and stars. The ground was covered by a thousand tiny flowers, all climbing up the trees that cast their leaves over the pools. 

Beau, sitting on the span of bridge over the largest pool, had her back turned to them. 

“Beau!” Jester whisper-yelled. Beau didn’t turn to look at them. “B— !” She was promptly stopped by Yasha squeezing her hand. Jester turned to look at her questioningly. Yasha had one finger up to her lips, a quiet plea to stay silent.

They walked together up to where Beau stared at the steaming water, an open bottle of wine dangling from one hand and the jade pendant her father had insisted she take in the other. 

They split then, Jester going to her left, Yasha to her right, sitting down right next to her on the bridge. Together the three of them looked out at the bubbling mud pits and trickle of steaming water that ran under them. A faint breeze whisked through every now and then, carrying with it the scent of night-blooming jasmine and marsh roses, heady and perfumed, odd with the faintly acrid scent of the water and dirt. 

Jester slowly eased the bottle out of Beau’s hand and set it to the side, replacing it with her own blue hand. Yasha, too, scooted a little closer, pressing her leg flush with Beau’s until they were touching from knee to hip and shoulder to elbow.

“I didn’t know what to expect today,” Beau said after a long silence. “Maybe for my dad to be angry with me, or for him to be smug, or—” She sucked in a deep breath. “For some big explosion. Something different than the repressed bullshit I grew up with.

“I don’t know  _ why  _ I thought this time might be different. My parents… they were never big on physical confrontations. It was always just me. I was the only one looking for something to fight.”

She exhaled slowly, turning the jade pendant over in her hand as if contemplating what to do with it.

“You  _ are  _ good at fighting.” Jester’s voice was small, wobbly with an awkward laugh. She squeezed Beau’s hand a little more tightly. “But you’re good at lots of things.”

Beau gave her a brittle smile. “Sometimes it feels like fighting  _ is all  _ I’m good at.”

“It’s not, Beau,” Yasha assured her. She set her palm over Beau’s hand clenched around the pendant. “You’re worth more than that.” She held Beau’s hand in her own, running the fingers of her other over the tense lines of Beau’s joints and tendons, petting softly. “You’re a good person.”

“People keep  _ saying  _ that,” Beau says. “It’s just hard to—” She stopped, taking another gulping breath before exhaling harshly. “Dairon told me something, once.”

There were no frogs out here in the sulphur marshes. The vines of wild fruits, the descendents of seeds stolen by birds, creaked in the night breeze as Jester and Yasha waited for her to continue. “She told me that there’s no difference between being kind and doing kindnesses. It doesn’t matter if I really  _ am  _ a good person— actions are what matters. 

“But—” Her voice wavered, wet and broken. “Why don’t I feel like I’m good? At what point will I feel like I’ve changed?”

Jester dove forward to wrap her arms around Beau’s stiff shoulders. She wiped bitter tears off Beau’s freckled cheeks, smoothing frayed hair away from her forehead. Jester looked at her softly, her own eyes filling with tears. She pressed a single kiss to Beau’s cheek.

“It doesn’t matter if— if you never feel it. You do  _ amazing  _ things, Beau.” She wiped more tears off Beau’s face. “Right from the first time we met, with the frog monster in that town, and I— we—” She sighed. “We can see that. I wish you could, too.”

Beau looked up at her with tired eyes, the whites nearly glowing from the moonlight reflected in unshed tears. Her face looked so tense that it must have hurt— and hurt more to uncrinkle it, every muscle falling as Beau jerked away, only to be caught by Yasha.

Yasha held her still, looking at Beau’s fallen face kindly. She dropped Beau’s hand and reached up instead to cup her cheeks, smoothing over her tense jaw with her thumbs.

She pressed her forehead to Beau’s with a gentle bump.

“Just breathe a little,” Yasha encouraged her. “You know how to do that.”

“I always fall asleep in meditation,” Beau said, laughing through a crack in her voice. 

“This is just breathing,” Jester reminded her. “Even I can do that.”

Beau didn’t say anything, still gulping air when she wasn’t holding her breath. 

“Come on, just a little bit,” Yasha urged her. “In and out.”

The tears came, then. They spilled over Beau’s cheeks as she hiccupped through the exercise. She gripped Yasha's wrists as if she wanted to pull them away but couldn’t make herself do it. She sobbed and gasped and— eventually— went from harsh tears to sniffles. 

Yasha stroked her thumbs over Beau’s cheeks, wiping away the last of the tears. She drew back a millimeter to get a better look at her in the light— then ducked down and pressed her lips ever so gently to Beau’s forehead, a mirror of Jester’s gesture. Her touch was petal-soft, barely more than a press of skin to skin. But still, it proved too much. Beau turned her head away, pulling Yasha’s hands off her.

But Jester was still there, waiting in the wings with her hands on Beau’s back, watching and waiting. Jester took her chance; she peppered Beau’s cheeks with tiny kisses to each cheek.

“No, c’mon, I don’t des— ” Beau sounded like she was going to sob again. Jester and Yasha shared a look. They each grabbed one of Beau’s hands, tugging her into a hug between the two of them.

“You  _ do _ ,” Jester insisted. “You deserve this.”

And they shook together there in the dark, with the jasmine and moonflowers facing the spill of stars. The pools around them bubbled slow and warm, hissing steam and gas. And they were together, holding each close, arms a protective barrier.

At last, Beau sniffled a bit and gently pushed them away. Jester pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to Beau, who blew her nose and tucked the cloth away. Yasha rubbed circles on Beau’s back and offered a swig of water from her waterskin. Beau gulped down swig after swig of water. It was faintly sweet, infused with mint that was cool and soothing on her raw throat. 

She sighed deeply, then looked at the two women on either side of her.

“Thank you for coming after me.”

They hugged her in response. And eventually Beau let herself hug back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like my lesbians like i like my chicken: tender and spicy

The next morning, Jester and Yasha met the others in the tavern with their faces carefully schooled into something resembling calm. 

“Beau’s not feeling well this morning,” Yasha informed them. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Fjord asked. “Because I’ve had some trouble this morning as well. I think there was something in the grain alcohol we drank last night.”

“Yeah,” Nott said with a snort as she scarfed her scrambled eggs. “There was grain alcohol in it.” 

“Nothing like that,” Yasha assured them. “Just, uh...lady troubles,” she said awkwardly, trying to find a reason that Beau wouldn’t be embarrassed by. “It’s. Um. Bad,” she finished lamely.

“She’s shitting so hard her butt is going to turn inside out,” Jester added in a stage whisper, winking at a flabbergasted Yasha. 

Eventually warding off the rest of the Nein’s interjections (“Well, tell her to just stuff a cork up there and clench, because we’ve got a witch to kill!” from Nott, and a “O-oh, uh, tell her I hope she...recovers soon?” from Fjord.) Yasha and Jester managed to scrape together a handful of fruit, some bread and bacon, and a mug of steaming herbal tea from Caduceus. They carefully stepped back into the room.

“ _ We brought bacon! _ ” Jester sing-songed, flouncing over with the tray. She scooted next to where Beau was laying in bed staring at the hole in the roof. “And Caduceus made you a special tea because I told him you were having your lady time.”

“Ugh, lady time?” Beau grimaced. “You couldn’t have come up with something else?”

“To be fair,” Yasha started. “What she actually said was that you were—” 

“Pooping,” Jester finished with a grin. “Like, a lot. A  _ lot  _ a lot.”

“I think they got the message,” Yasha said with a fond smile.

“Now that’s more like it,” Beau said with a nod. She looked over the tray they’d brought her. “Kind of nice getting room service,” Beau said slyly, nudging her companions where they were sitting on either side of her. “Haven’t had service like this since the Pillow Trove.” She looked over the spread they’d snuck to her. “Ugh, did you  _ have  _ to bring grapes?” Beau made a face, even as she popped one into her mouth. “Ugh, and they’re old table grapes.”

She huffed, holding up the rest of the meager bunch in one hand. “You know what they do with these?” She shook the little bunch of fruit for Jester and Yasha to look at. “ _ These  _ are what vintners do to mitigate loss. They’re not good for wine. Probably excess that wasn’t harvested in time. So they sell them to schmucks that are willing to pay for overripe, squishy sugar bombs. Here, try one.” She placed a few in each woman’s hand.

Jester made a face. “It’s so  _ sweet _ ,” Jester complained, swiping the tea off the tray to rinse out her mouth. “Even for me.”

“Sweet, but bitter, too,” Yasha noted. 

Beau huffed a laugh. “Hey, Universe, maybe be a little less ham-fisted next time? Ugh, my head,” she groaned, sinking back into the flat pillows piled up behind her. Jester scooted up next to her, kicking off her boots and promptly climbing under the covers with Beau. After a second she communicated via eyebrows and glances that Yasha should do the same. 

Beau almost  _ did  _ look sick. Her eyes were sunken in, red-rimmed and puffy. She hadn’t slept well in the scant few hours between their walk home and sunrise.

Beau told herself she’d only close her eyes for a second. But a second turned into minutes, and the room was so very quiet, the only sounds Jester drawing idly in her sketchbook and Yasha occasionally turning a page in whatever she was reading these days.

When Beau finally woke— not even sure when she’d fallen asleep— she found that both her girls had laid down with her. Jester’s sketchbook was on the bedside table, and Yasha was curled on her other side clutching her book like a teddy bear. Each of them had an arm thrown over Beau’s stomach as if daring her to try and walk away this time. 

She was almost on the edge of a doze again when she felt Jester nuzzle her shoulder. She pressed soft, sleepy kisses over the entire freckled expanse Beau had left exposed. Beau laughed at the ticklish sensation. When she squirmed and tried to wriggle away, she moved directly into Yasha.

Yasha stared at her for long moments before kissing her on the mouth, drawing it out into something sweet and slow, golden like honey in the morning sun.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Yasha asked when she finally pulled away. Beau felt her mouth tighten again, mood soured at the idea of facing her own foolishness. 

“Not really,” Beau mumbled. “Talked enough last night. I liked the kissing, though.”

“I can do that,” Jester cut in. She turned Beau’s head and pecked her on the lips. “You want a distraction.”

“Yeah,” Beau admitted. “Kind of. It just—” She swallowed. “It was nice to know you guys like me. And that sounds  _ super  _ childish, ugh,” she grumbled, running a hand through her hair nervously. “But— part of me keeps expecting you all to say ‘just kidding!’ and dump me in the middle of nowhere.”

“Aw, Beau,” Jester said. “That’s really sad. We would never do that.”

“We like you,” Yasha said simply. “We would at least dump you in a town.” She squeezed Beau around the middle, reminding her that, for better or worse, she was in the middle of a hug sandwich. 

“Gee, thanks,” Beau grumbled. Then, more softly: “Thank you.” She took a deep breath as if making to speak again, but was silenced by Yasha leaning over and pressing her lips to Beau’s own. 

“My turn, my turn,” Jester sing-songed, turning Beau towards her. Yasha laughed and let her go. Jester’s kisses were less patient than Yasha’s; they were more demanding, hungrier, sharp and sweet. 

Jester nipped and gave hums of approval or soft giggles between each peck. Jester was  _ vocal, _ a stark contrast to Yasha, who seemed to indicate her pleasure with deep, quiet sighs, like she was afraid to be heard. 

Jester kissed Beau until her mouth was swollen from the tiefling’s sharp teeth. And then Jester pulled back, licking her lips and staring hungrily, as if contemplating something .

“You should take off your pajamas,” she suggested. “You too, Yasha.” She stripped off her nightgown, down to her underclothes in little more than a flourish. Beau removed the last layer of her sleep clothes with a groan. She was still sore and sluggish. But she’d already taken off most of her clothes the night before; they’d been too muddy and damp to sleep in. Now she just had on her smallclothes, and even those were quickly discarded.

Jester dove after her in the blanket nest they’d made, pushing Beau into the pile of pillows and clothes with a giggle. She smacked kisses against Beau’s breast bone, hands smoothing over Beau’s lean ribs and belly. Jester prodded one firm abdominal muscle, laughing when Beau flinched and squirmed away. 

“Are you ticklish, Beau?”

“No,” Beau said far too quickly.

“I think you  _ are _ ,” Jester said, mischief glinting in her eyes. “But I will  _ politely  _ save that for another day.” She returned to petting Beau’s sides, cupping her small breasts. “Your boobs are so  _ cute _ ,” Jester said with a pout. “You can get away with a bandolier under your uniform. I’ve got to use all these elaborate straps and things.”

“You  _ like  _ the elaborate straps and things,” Yasha pointed out. 

“ _ And _ the lace and ribbons,” Beau reminded her. 

“I do like the lace and the ribbons but they get in the way of any hmm-hrm-hrmm,” Jester said, flushing. 

“Well, you’re not wearing them now,” Yasha said. She reached over to press one large hand to Jester’s shoulder, running down her spine to rest at the small of her back, above her twitching tail. “Nothing in the way of any hm-hm-hmm.”

“Very true,” Beau said. “C’mere, Jessie.” 

“Aw, alright, if I  _ have  _ to,” Jester said, mock-sighing before flopping down next to Beau. “You should kiss Yasha more,” she said breathlessly, even as she cupped one of Beau’s small breasts and sucked a bruise into the meat of it. 

“Y-yeah,” Beau said in agreement. Her face was hot, flushed red from nerves. “Yash?”

Yasha came in wordlessly, cupping Beau’s face and kissing her slowly. She pressed the monk into her pillows, nearly covering her with her own body, curtain of long hair shading them from the rest of the room. Beau gasped when Jester bit one nipple— and Yasha was there to catch the sound and nibble on Beau’s bottom lip in response. Yasha kissed like she and Beau shared one lung, cooperating to share the same desperate breaths. It was the kind of kiss that made Beau forget to protest the gentleness with which it was done.

Yasha leaned back to pull off the top and the soft pants she’d worn to talk to the others, sitting back for a moment to sweep her hair away from her face. She braided while eyeing Beau and Jester’s lazy tangle. It was the same way she would look at a map while making a plan of attack and getting ready to charge. Beau could only stare back with lidded eyes, breathing shallow as Jester continued to mark her chest, squeeze her hip, pet her thigh. 

The room was warm, the light coming through the hole in the thatch above them soft on the bare wood walls, laying a beam of sunshine over their makeshift nest of blankets and clothes and pillows. 

“Never thought I’d actually have  _ good  _ company in one of these shitholes,” Beau remarked breathlessly as she reached out for Yasha’s hand and tugged the barbarian down to her level. “They were always kind of, uh, a last resort for a desperate hooligan, if you know what I mean.”

Jester laughed against her stomach. “You said you had some good times, though.”

“Well, it’s all relative, okay?” Beau grumbled. “Hardtack seems nice if you’ve never had fresh baked bread, yeah?”

“Are we bread?” Yasha asked, laughing softly.

“ _ I’m _ a cupcake,” Jester said loftily from somewhere down by Beau’s waist. “You’re probably like. One of those gigantic cinnamon rolls they sell at holidays.”

“Got it.” Yasha nodded seriously, though her smile broke through. 

“Nobody is a bun but I could— uh—” Beau spluttered. “I could still eat you?” She coughed, then sat up quickly, covering her red face. “ _ Fuck.” _

“Beauuuu!” Jester squealed. “You did not just say that!” She scrambled into Beau’s lap, kissing everywhere she could reach. 

Beau was red-faced when she turned to catch Yasha's amused expression.

“Well? Don’t leave me  _ alone  _ with her,” Beau said through her obvious embarrassment. 

Yasha laughed, her mismatched eyes sparkling like summer lightning as she leaned over to kiss Beau again. 

Yasha’s attraction was quieter than Jester’s enthusiastic movements and blatant declarations, but it was just as intense. Yasha didn’t want her like a single flash of heat lightning; she wanted Beau like a storm wants to break, rolling and quiet and ripe for rain.

Yasha took Beau’s shaky hands and guided them to curl around her broad back. It was easy to turn just another fraction to kiss Yasha’s clavicle, scratching blunt nails down Yasha's shoulder blades. Somewhere in the middle where muscle dipped and met the cords of her spine, Beau felt the nubs of something long since lost. Yasha let out a little “Oh!” when Beau touched it, her back straightening a fraction.

“Sorry,” Beau muttered, moving her hands away. 

“It was just— sensitive,” Yasha stuttered. 

“Is it like my tail?” Jester asked, craning around to look at Yasha’s back. To her credit, Yasha didn’t turn away.

“Not exactly,” Yasha said. “They’re— there... but... not? And they’re damaged, so. Um.”

“So we need to be gentle,” Jester finished for her. She pressed her lips to Yasha’s cheek, patting her shoulder. “You should let people be gentle with you more.”

Beau was startled out of her embarrassment by the touch of Jester’s tail around her ankle. Jester’s tail often felt like it had a mind of its own. On previous occasions it had been marked as a tell in card games, or used to trip unsuspecting marks. Now it curled loosely around Beau’s ankle, solid as an anchor.

With great effort and encouragement from Jester, Beau climbed up to straddle one of Yasha’s muscular thighs. She pressed her face to Yasha’s breasts— it was hard not to, positioned as she was. When Beau dropped her hands down to squeeze Yasha’s backside both of them laughed, Yasha flushing and ducking her head with a pleased look on her face. 

Yasha’s muscular thigh was the perfect surface to get some subtle friction against, grinding hard and low as she got lost in the small, breathy noises the barbarian let out when she forgot to be quiet. 

“Someone’s got more energy than an hour ago,” Yasha said with a breathy laugh.”

“Just— mm!-- enjoying good company—“ Beau said with a groan as she spread her legs further, grinding against Yasha’s thigh

“Turn her around,” Jester insisted when she realized she couldn’t get between them. “I want a turn and Beau won’t sit still until you hold her. Right?” she asked, looking to Beau for confirmation.

“Definitely not,” Beau admitted with a toothy grin. 

Beau’s vision whirled as she was manhandled by the two women, who turned her around and propped her up on Yasha’s lap. She sighed, relaxing into their touches. The room was so warm with all three of them squeezed into it. Beau could just lean her head back onto Yasha’s shoulder and breathe. It felt like she was drinking in sunshine, pure sweet heat in her lungs. She jumped when Yasha dragged her teeth along one shoulder, digging in to suck a bruise into the freckled skin there. It was distracting enough that  _ Jester’s  _ mouth was a genuine surprise. 

If Beau had been interrogated about it before, she would have admitted that if she’d  _ ever  _ thought about uses for Jester’s mouth, this would have been a fantasy, but she’d never thought Jester would be so  _ enthusiastic  _ about it. The tiefling teased her gently, giving little kitten licks like she was sampling a delicacy. She was careful about it, like she was afraid to hurt Beau in her enthusiasm.

“Ah, Jester…” Beau groaned when Jester parted her lips and licked between them. “Feels good…” 

Jester lay a hand on Beau’s twitching abdomen to keep her still while the other hand joined her mouth, pulling back skin to expose her clit.

“You’re so pretty down here,” Jester said almost conversationally. “Would you let me paint you sometime?”

“Paint my— maybe?” Beau squeaked. “Like one of your Xorhasian girls, or--?”

Yasha laughed and squeezed her around the middle, pressing more kisses to Beau’s neck, tongue curling behind Beau’s ear where it made her shiver. “You’re softer than you look,” Yasha said simply, wrapping her arms around Beau’s waist. “You’re all— you know,” she said with an absent hand gesture. “But you’re fun to squeeze a little.”

“You’re just huge,” Beau countered. “Everyone looks small to you.”

“I’m smaller than  _ both  _ of you, and you’re still soft to me,” Jester said, pinching the meager fat on Beau’s thigh. “It’s nice.”

“Somehow I feel like I don’t— ah!-- deserve this either,” Beau said. It was meant to be a joke, but came out more seriously than intended. “Two pretty girls in my bed. I probably had this exact fantasy in this exact place like ten years ago, haha.”

“Well, you’ve got us now,” Yasha assured her. “And we’re not going anywhere.”

Beau went to respond but moaned instead when Jester licked around her clit and sucked gently. Her lips were so  _ soft _ , her tongue and warm and wet and  _ exploring,  _ and Beau thought maybe this is what the afterlife would be like if she ever earned her place there. The tiefling’s tail curled up to grab Beau’s ankle again, the spade twitching back and forth as Jester grew even more enthusiastic about her task. 

She slurped and sucked, spreading Beau open with her fingers and licking inside her. Two of her fingers— claws luckily worn down by hard work— pressed inside, curling and twisting in a way that Beau was surprised Jester even knew how to do, except that she did it  _ well,  _ pressing in and up while Yasha restrained her to stop her thrashing. Beau came with a shock like ice water rolling over her, barely holding back a scream.

“ _ Jester— _ ” Beau started, but Jester continued licking her through the aftershocks, drumming her fingers, forcing the buildup to come again. Beau was stopped from complaining by Yasha kissing her hard, biting her lips nearly to the point of drawing blood. The crest rose again like a wave unstoppable, and Beau shook, held open and held still by the two women who loved her most.

She came again, panting and jittery as another wave broke through her, and still Jester did not stop. She just— kept  _ going _ . Each time came easier than the last, until Beau felt like she was on a hair-trigger, too sensitive by far but unwilling to tell Jester to stop.

The last one was so intense that Beau actually bit Yasha’s forearm where it was curled around her neck. Her hips jackknifed off the bed as a spattering of fluid coated Jester’s forearm.

“Holy  _ shit _ ,” Beau said when her eyes could focus again. She looked at Jester through the post-coital haze. The tiefling was primly sucking her fingers clean, though the image was somewhat spoiled when she wiped the rest of her arm and her chin off on her discarded nightgown. 

“C’mere,  _ please _ , Jessie,” Beau begged, still breathless. She made grabby hands at Jester, and the tiefling came easily. She giggled when Beau pulled her in by the horns, smacking sour kisses on Beau’s lips. Her tail lashed behind her, whipping back and forth like a cat that had gotten the cream, the canary, and dinner’s roast as well.

Jester kissed her once, then leaned up to peck Yasha on the lips as well. They seemed lost in each other, complements turned to one slur of color. Jester’s blue skin flushed lavender in places, while Yasha was so pale... Beau couldn’t stop herself from reaching up to pet Jester’s horn and Yasha's jaw, like some little girl mashing her dolls together to make them kiss. 

Quite suddenly Yasha grabbed the base of Jester’s lashing tail and yanked a bit, forcing it to stop its dancing about. Jester immediately shivered, a high-pitched moan and the arch of her spine the only sign that she’d met her peak. She immediately dove in to kiss Yasha again, then fell back into the now-sweaty pile of padding. 

“You guys are so  _ pretty _ ,” she said, mystified. “ _ Beau _ . Beau, Yasha deserves something too, yeah?”

They shared a look, and for a moment pure Chaos Crew madness brewed in their eyes. Beau grinned, tired as she was. Jester grinned back, toothy and hungry. They descended on Yasha like a pair of hungry wolves.

Beau immediately dove towards Yasha’s already spread legs. Yasha was tall, and that meant long legs heavy with muscle. Yasha’s skin was soft under her teeth, bruising like a peach at the height of summer when Beau bit down and sucked a heavy bruise into one inner thigh. 

Beau could hear Jester above her, treating Yasha to the same intense  _ consumption _ that the tiefling was so good at. Yasha’s muscle flexed under Beau’s hand when Beau hiked one leg over her shoulder for a better angle. One of Yasha’s hands gripped Beau’s shoulders as Beau moved lower, petting the thatch of black hair that covered Yasha’s groin. Beau settled comfortably on the sweat-damp covers, inhaling Yasha’s  _ everything  _ like it was fine incense.

Beau had forgotten how nice it was to go down on someone she liked this intensely; had forgotten how nice it was to go down on someone who knew her and liked her  _ back  _ just as much. Yasha moaned when Beau ducked in with the flat of her tongue along Yasha’s seam. It was a high, short note, muffled into Jester’s mouth and broken into something sweet and low when Beau spread her folds and licked more deeply. Beau parted the black curls and pulled back Yasha’s hood, eyeing her glistening center hungrily. It was a delicate thing to wrap her lips around the swollen nub of Yasha’s clit, sucking gently, hand holding Yasha’s leg still with a huff of a laugh when it seemed like Yasha was genuinely going to kick her in surprise. 

“Yashaaaa,” Jester sing-songed breathlessly. “Stay still.”

“Mm-hm!” Yasha hummed a bit frantically. One strong hand tangled in Beau’s loose hair, gripping tight but not moving, as if she wasn’t sure if she wanted to shove Beau away or pull her closer.

Beau looked up, feeling a little lightheaded as she watched Jester play with one of Yasha’ pink nipples, kneading and tugging in turn as Yasha tilted her head back to gasp. Jester immediately ducked in to bite kisses along Yasha’s throat...

There was something rapturous about holding Yasha open and licking into her. There was the tang of salt and skin, soft against Beau’s tongue. Jester’s happy hum turned to a high, “Oh!” and when Beau finally pulled away enough to watch, Jester was absolutely plastered against Yasha’s chest, blue skin to pale, Yasha’s hand between Jester’s thighs. Jester hummed and made happy noises as Yasha’s hand moved against her. Jester’s hips twitched like she wanted to get even closer, as if they were not already pressed into one hot tangle in this tiny room. 

Beau pressed on, sucking on Yasha’s clit, petting her fuzz before dropping Yasha’s thigh and instead pressing two fingers inside her. She pressed down on Yasha’ belly at the same time she hooked her fingers down— 

And Yasha gasped, nearly silent, gone stock still and tense between Jester and Beau. The only reason Beau could tell that she was crashing hard was the fact that she could feel Yasha’s hold on her, clenching in spasmodic pulses around her fingers. 

“There we go,” Jester cooed— but that turned to a high yelp as Yasha rubbed hard enough to finally tip Jester over the edge again, quick enough that Beau  _ almost  _ would have accused Yasha of retaliation. In contrast to Yasha— who was still pulsing around Beau’s fingers and yet silent as the grave— Jester was loud enough that Beau flushed hard in secondhand embarrassment. Someone  _ had  _ to have heard that. Hopefully the rest of the Nein was out running errands instead of cooped up in this shithole like the three of them, but there was still the barkeep and any patrons. At least it was early; hopefully the place would still be deserted. 

Beau slowly withdrew from inside Yasha, then wearily crawled up the bed to flop almost entirely on the barbarian anyway. Jester dropped heavily backwards to lay splayed out on the mattress, panting. She gleamed in the shaft of sunlight breaking through the thatch above them. Her tattoo sparkled, diamonds gone magic-bright as her chest heaved, still catching her breath.

Yasha was soft under Beau’s body, utterly relaxed, if a little sweaty. Jester’s tail flicked back and forth, the spaded tip of it twitching like a very relaxed cat’s. 

Beau was groggy now that the adrenaline of multiple orgasms was wearing off. In its place flooded something warm and soft that left her loose-limbed and yawning. She eyed her two girls: moonlight pale, pea flower blue, practically glowing on their haphazard bed arrangement.

The room was hot— but a well-placed prestidigitation by Jester left them all feeling cool and refreshed instead of like a hot sweaty mess.

They were warm, they were exhausted, and Beau was pretty sure that everything would be fine. It would all be fine.

The next morning, the Nein set out of town at a brisk pace, on their way to the deep hills to find their quarry. Yasha opted to walk, bending down occasionally to pick some new flower out and press it in her book. Caduceus joined her, often admiring the menagerie of interesting birds and beetles they spotted. Beau was able to identify a few of the flowers, familiar as they were to her: butterfly pea flowers, sand verbena. A juniper bush, with its astringent, medicinal aroma. Around some of the steaming pools they found strangely-colored moss, speckled with tiny pink petals.

“This place stinks,” Nott complained.

“Yeah,” Jester agreed. “It sucks.”

“No, it  _ stinks,”  _ Nott insisted. “Rotten eggs, or, or compost or something.”

“These  _ are  _ sulfur pools,” Caleb pointed out. “It’s in the water— notice how they are devoid of life?-- and probably the mud, as well.”

“Huh,” Fjord said. “Wonder if you could use it as a spell component.”

Beau half-listened to them argue about the merits of slathering one’s self in egregious materials as they trotted along. As they headed into the woods, Beau took one last look at the town’s outline behind them. She could just make out her family’s manor at the edge of the scrubby woods, then other houses, then the town itself, with its low buildings and rustic exteriors. And row after row, hill after hill, of vine-covered trellises, waiting for the spring to bring new fruit.

**Author's Note:**

> For more info on what I'm working on next, come join me on Twitter at twitter.com/GoInterrobang !


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